


Rescue

by locusdesperatus



Series: Reformation [5]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Abuse, Borderline Personality Disorder, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Emotional Manipulation, Mental Instability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 04:25:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8272780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/locusdesperatus/pseuds/locusdesperatus
Summary: Set a week or two after part 4.AU where Felix is a serial kidnapper, who has worked his way up to his ideal victim- Locus.





	1. Chapter 1

“Damn it!” Mason cussed, slamming his hand onto the desktop.

“Woah, honey.” Megan soothed, squeezing Mason's shoulders. “Calm down.”

“I just… Megs, I can't believe they missed this!” Mason gestured to the files strewn across his desk. “If… if I hadn't been looking for Sam, they never would have connected them at all.”

“What do you mean?” Megan leaned over, scanning the papers.

“Look at all these pictures. They're all men that were reported missing in the state. Tell me what sticks out to you.” Mason urged. Megan rubbed Mason's upper back comfortingly as she inspected the photos.

“They… they all look similar.” Megan said, an edge of horror creeping into her voice. “They all kinda look like Sam!”

“With the exception of these three.” Mason pointed to a few mugshots on his right.

“Why?” Megan asked.

“Here's what I think.” Mason rearranged the photos, putting them in a line. “Now, they're in order of disappearance.”

“Sam is last.” Megan pointed.

“And this guy- he goes by Sharkface- is first. See the pattern?” Mason asked.

“They look more and more like Sam as it goes on.” Megan deduced, tapping her fingernails under the photos.

“You're exactly right.” Mason agreed. “These men were all kidnapped by the same person. All from their homes, with little sign of struggle.” Mason took a breath. “He started out with stronger men, so he knew he could take them on. I'm guessing he's kind of a smaller guy. He moved on to more ideal targets, ones that began to represent his final victim.”

“Final victim?” Megan covered her mouth with her hand. “Sam?”

“Yes.” Mason sighed. “He was after Sam the whole time.”

“Oh god.” Megan squeezed Mason's shoulder tightly. “Is he… do you think…?”

“I don't know.” Mason whispered grimly.

* * *

Locus twisted against the cuff on his ankle, gritting his teeth when the metal dug into his skin. He panted, scratching fruitlessly at the ground.

“Let me go!” He screamed, devolving into a rough cough. “Let me go!”

“I told you to be good!” Lefty stormed in, backhanding Locus and throwing him backwards. “You ungrateful little bitch!”

Sam screamed in terror as Lefty straddled him, wrapping his hand around his throat and squeezing. Locus scratched at Lefty's arm desperately, staring up at the ceiling. His mouth opened and closed sporadically, and he choked on a noise as he began to get tunnel vision.

“Stupid brat.” Lefty pulled away, spitting on Locus’ chest. Locus gasped for air, coughing and spitting pink fluid on the ground. His chest burned, reminding him of the time he'd nearly drowned in the hospital pool.

“I want to go home.” Sam whispered. Locus nodded, leaning forward to rest his head on his arms. He stared forlornly at the door. Lefty was much crueler than Felix, keeping Locus chained up constantly. He was fed little bits of rat meat on occasion, but never bathed. His hair was matted hopelessly at this point. Lefty had quickly dropped the guise of care and affection, resorting to violence and brute force whenever Locus disobeyed him. A testament to that was the dark, ugly bruise across his ribs. Locus had bitten Lefty when the resident had gotten a little too handsy. The resulting kicks had cracked some ribs, and damaged blood vessels.

“Shouldn't have chased me away.” Felix whispered, ghosting his hands over his shoulders. Locus dug them in, nails scratching furrows into his chest and neck. He writhed uncomfortably, gasping for breath. Anything to make Felix go away, to make him stop tormenting him, even if it was just for a minute. Similar scratches littered his stomach and thighs, desperate attempts to ground himself when Felix's personality broke through.

“Leave me alone.” Locus mumbled, going limp. He breathed shallowly, careful not to upset the wheezing that punctuated every one of his breaths. He just had to wait for the right chance, and he could escape. Lefty wasn't as clever as Felix, he could get away if he played his cards right. He just needed time.

“This'll teach you.” Lefty spat, reentering the room and startling Locus. He was holding something in his hand, but Locus couldn't quite see what it was. “Whiney little bitch.” Lefty cussed. He kicked Locus backwards with a foot to the chest, quickly straddling him and pinning his arms to his sides with his legs. Locus panicked when he saw the gauged needle Lefty is holding. It was tied through a chunk of surgical thread, and glinted menacingly.

“No! No!” Sam begged, struggling against Lefty's hold. He cried out as Lefty backhanded him, narrowly avoiding scraping him with the needle. While he was stunned from the hit, Lefty quickly pierced through Sam's lower lip. With a tug, he pulled the thread all the way through. Sam went still, terrified as he watched the needle work it's way through his mouth.

“Good boy.” Lefty cooed. “If you struggle, I promise you this will be much, much worse. Be good now, be a good pet.” He continued stitching in an irregular criss cross fashion until Sam could no longer open his mouth. His lips were swollen and slightly bloodied from the abuse. Lefty used his teeth to tie off the knot at the end, sitting back to admire his handiwork. “So beautiful.” he praised. Leaning forward, he pressed a soft kiss to the stitching, making Sam jerk away from him involuntarily. Even in his weakened state, he wasn't about to submit to Lefty's affections.

“Stupid, stupid, you barely fought back.” Felix accused, tutting in disappointment.

“Couldn't. I couldn't.” Sam protested silently. Tears leaked out of his eyes as Lefty stroked his cheek slowly and deliberately.


	2. Chapter 2

“There's no time!” Mason insisted, leaning forward. He watched Captain Bastian mull over the collection of photos on his desk.

“I see what you're saying, Wu, I really do. But, how do we catch this guy?” Captain Bastian asked.

“We can't.” Mason explained. “Not on our own.” 

“Then how are we supposed to-”

“Wait, wait.” Mason held up a hand. “Let me explain. This guy is smart. He spread out his kidnappings enough that our system wouldn't group them together very well. He's taken low-risk victims that he knew wouldn't be missed for a while. And, he has a specific type, one that he adheres to almost religiously.”

“What you're saying, is that he's criminally sophisticated.” Bastian inferred.

“Forensically, too. This guy is clean, he doesn't leave a trace at any crime scene. So, I'm thinking he's a smaller guy, and he uses drugs to subdue his targets. Or, they know him and trust him. I'm banking on one of them being able to identify him.”

“One question, Wu.” Bastian picked up the photo of Sam, looking it over.

“Yes?” Mason watched his captain carefully.

“We haven't found any bodies. What the hell is he doing with them?”

* * *

Sam trailed behind Lefty, the chain attached to his collar rattling loudly as he walked. He stumbled as Lefty yanked on it, bringing him a touch closer. 

“Stay close. I won't tell you again.” Lefty threatened. Sam nodded hurriedly. He wrapped his fingers carefully around the end of the chain, keeping it from scraping against the metal collar Lefty had given him. Locus hated it, he had clawed at it for almost two hours after Lefty had first put it on. Sam didn't mind the metal, but he was a little upset about the new scrapes and scratches Locus had inflicted on their neck and shoulders with his escape attempts. Their fingernails were damaged too, chewed down to the nail bed, and bloody from Locus’ insistent scratching.

Without warning, all of the lights turned on. Locus and Lefty both collapsed, shielding their eyes from the bright light. Locus flinched at a familiar noise. It was faint, and coming from the floor above them. He shook his head, trying to focus and identify the sound. Finally, it clicked. Gunfire. Lefty seemed to recognize it too.

“Get up. Let's go.” He snapped, pulling Locus to his feet. He was walking faster, dragging Locus along behind him. Just as they turned the corner, Locus heard the elevator open. There was faint chatter, and lots of footsteps. He blindly followed Lefty, whining when he was shoved to his hands and knees.

“They can't have you, I won't let them take you from me.” Lefty hissed. He grabbed a fistful of Locus’ hair, pulling him forwards. Locus finally focused on the floor beneath him. He went rigid when he saw the pool, trying to push away. Lefty held him steady, forcing his head under water. Locus struggled, clawing at the cement under his knees. He heard muffled noises from above him, but was more focused on the amount of water he was inhaling.

* * *

Mason followed the SWAT team into the elevator, clutching his gun a little tighter. This facility had been one of the possible places their kidnapper could be holding his victims. It was looking promising, and he was a little more hopeful when a team radioed in, saying they'd found one of the missing men.

“Wu, we found another one. Reynolds, we think.”

“You think?” Mason asked.

“He's dead, Mace. Been that way awhile.”

“Shit…” Mason gripped his gun a little tighter. “Be extra careful. But try not to shoot them.” He encouraged his men.

“Yes, sir.” The general consensus was that most of the men were docile. However, Mason was wary of any who presented themselves as a threat. His team came first, after all. When the elevator opened, they filed out, looking left before moving to the right. Mason kept up with his men as they searched.

“Wu!” One officer called from the back of the morgue. He held open a door, letting Mason see inside.

“Jesus…” Mason cussed. He noted the thin amount of standing water on the floor, pooling around the manacles bolted into the wall. “This is where he kept them.” He stated.

“Boss, we're headed down the hall, there's still more to go.” Another officer piped up.

“Right behind you.” Mason tore his eyes away, jogging to catch up to his men. They walked in formation, circling around the empty waiting room. Finding nothing in laundry, they moved forward to the pool room.

“Target spotted!” An officer yelled. He pointed his gun at a man who knelt beside the pool. He was holding another resident's head under water.

“Step away from the pool!”

“Back up, hands on your head!”

Mason watched in horror as the resident lunged at them, screaming nonsense as he moved.

“Open fire!” He ordered.

The resident collapsed backwards, falling into the pool with a splash. Mason moved forward, pulling the other man out of the water. His hair covered his face, and Mason ignored it in favor of starting CPR. He let his men split up, leaving him with three men, and sending the others ahead to continue searching.

“Come on!” Mason encouraged, counting his compressions carefully. He sat back as the man choked, gurgling as he tried to spit up water. “What the fuck?” Mason cussed, pushing the resident's hair out of the way. He looked at the crude, infected looking stitches with disdain, quickly pulling out a pocketknife and slicing through them. Finally able to expel the trapped water, the resident coughed, rough and harsh. Mason rolled the resident on his side, keeping him from choking as he vomited up fluid. “Easy, now, easy.” Mason set a hand on the man's back, wincing at how skinny he was. 

“M-mace...” Locus forced out between coughs, spitting up blood and bile.

“Sam? Holy shit. I thought you were… I thought…” Mason trailed off, helping Sam upright and wrapping his arms around him. “It's okay, everything's gonna be okay.” He promised.

“I want to go home.” Sam whispered.

“I know.” Mason coaxed Sam closer, rubbing his back comfortingly. “Can you get me a blanket?” He asked one of his men. They nodded, taking off with their partner.

“Is he gone?” Sam asked, curling his fingers in Mason's clothing.

“Who?” Mason glanced towards the corpse of the other man. It was drifting in the center of the pool.

“Lefty.” Sam whispered. He shivered, shifting closer to Mason for warmth. His mouth ached, and felt feverish with infection.

“Yeah, he's gone.” Mason patted Locus’ hair gently. “Once my friends get back with a blanket for you, I'll take you somewhere safe,okay?”

“Okay.” Sam closed his eyes, hiding his face against Mason's bulletproof vest. He shifted when he heard footsteps, Locus taking over. A man came close to Mason, carrying a blanket. When he came within two feet, Locus snapped at him, snarling viciously.

“Woah, woah!” Mason struggled with him, wrapping his arms around Locus and pulling him backwards. “Calm down, Sam. He's a friend, he's here to help.”

Locus glanced up at Mason before retreating, hiding his face again. Mason took the blanket with a nod, unfolding it to wrap it around Locus’ shoulders.

“Here we go, come on.” Mason soothed. He tucked the blanket under Locus’ frame before lifting him up. “How often were you fed?” He asked, shocked at just how light Locus was. The only response he received was a shrug, and Mason nodded in defeat. He sighed softly as they rode the elevator up. Locus eyed the men around them suspiciously, digging his fingers into Mason's clothing.

“Boss, we found a couple more dead ones.” One of Mason's men radioed in. 

“How long?” Mason asked.

“A week, maybe two?” 

“Damn.” Mason cussed. He hefted Locus a bit closer when the elevator door opened, carrying him down the hall and into the entryway. “Alright, i'm gonna pull this over your head so the light doesn't hurt your eyes, alright?” Mason tugged the blanket over Locus’ features, trying to ignore the dark eyes staring up at him.

“Wu, sir!” A younger officer ran up.

“Careful!” Mason moved to shield Locus from the officer's hasty approach. “He's a little skittish.”

“Sorry, sir. The ambulance is ready, right over there.” The officer pointed.

“Thank you.” Mason headed that way, glancing down at Locus to make sure he was doing alright. “Almost there, Sam.”

“Is Megan okay?” Sam asked. He wrapped his arms around Mason's neck as he was lifted into the ambulance.

“Yeah, she's fine.” Mason reassured him. “Why do you ask?”

“He… he said he worked with her.” Sam whispered. He blinked as Mason pulled the blanket off from over his head.

“Who, Sam? The man who took you?” Mason brushed Locus’ clumped hair away from his face. “Do you know who he is?”

“Mhm.” Sam nodded. He looked up fearfully as the paramedics entered the vehicle. “No… Mason, Mason!” He started to panic as they pulled out restraints.

“Shh, Sam, it's okay. It's okay!” Mason urged. He took Sam's hand, squeezing it tightly. The paramedics backed up as Locus started to squirm and snap at them. “Sam!” Mason set a hand on Locus’ chest, stilling him. “Sam, it's okay, they're not going to hurt you, I swear.”

Sam shook his head, hands clenching and unclenching against the wrist cuffs on the gurney. Mason let out a breath, leaning forward. He shushed Sam gently, stroking his matted hair.

“We’ll be at the hospital in ten minutes.” One of the paramedics informed Mason. He was setting up an IV, preparing to inject Sam with it. Mason nodded as he moved closer, making sure Sam could see him.

“We're almost there.” He repeated.

“Want to go ho-ome.” Sam's voice hitched as the paramedic hooked him up to the IV.

“We will.” Mason looked up as the other paramedic brought over a razor, taking it Sam's head. He watched the clumps of hair fall to the ground. Sam started to cry quietly, tears leaking out from his closed eyelids. Mason pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Mason…” Sam whispered. He was staring at the ceiling of the ambulance, eyes wide. The sound and vibration of the razor was freaking him out.

“It's okay, Sammy. I'm right here.” Mason soothed. He watched the paramedic change blades before moving on to shave away the coarse beard Sam had grown since Felix had left.

“He's extremely malnourished.” The paramedic beside Mason said. “And he's got some cracked ribs… Look at his fingers.”

“What's wrong with them?” Mason asked.

“They've been broken. Several times.” The paramedic touched Sam's hand gently. “They haven't healed right, so they're kind of crooked. I'd guess it was used for torture.”

“Jesus.” Mason shook his head.

“He's gonna have to be institutionalized. For a long time.” The paramedic told Mason. Pointed to the marks on Sam's shoulders. “Look at those. Scratch marks, likely self inflicted. From the position, he was holding himself like this.” The paramedic crossed his arms over his chest.

“Like a straitjacket.” Mason observed. He watched Sam space out, disassociating to deal with the sudden stress.

“Yeah.” The paramedic agreed. “I'm gonna venture a guess and say that whoever did this to him didn't want him to recover.”

“That bastard.” Mason hissed under his breath. He pulled out his phone, sending a text to Megan that updated her on the situation. “It's alright, Sam, I won't let him hurt you anymore.”


End file.
